


Play Hard (Play Dirty)

by neozeka



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, no real smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-12-25 04:46:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12028410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neozeka/pseuds/neozeka
Summary: Prompt:Maybe something involving them (them being whoever you want to include) being on a really dumb game show of sorts where they have to do stupid challenges. Ensue shenanigans and lots of bickering. Maybe canon.AKA five times where Harry complains about something and the one time he's got nothing to complain about





	Play Hard (Play Dirty)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [whoknows](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whoknows/gifts).



> This is a horrendously late birthday fic for the absolutely fantastic, talented, PATIENT whoknows. Which I was supposed to write ALMOST A YEAR AGO. I'm so sorry I took ages, I blame my last year at uni + job search, but also it just takes me 9000 years to write anything. I love you so very much and I'm sorry this is a bit shorter, but I had to crank it out before your next birthday because otherwise I'd feel like even more of a shit LOL.

1\. Pre-Show

“This is probably a bad idea.” Harry says, sitting off to the side as Louis got his hair done. He tries for a disinterested tone, but Louis probably sees right through him.

“You think all of my ideas are bad ideas,” Louis scoffs, flipping his hair and earning a reprimand from Lou. “You go along with them either way.”

“And I usually regret it right after.” Harry pouts, finally putting down his phone and looking straight at Louis. “It’s like you enjoy making my life difficult.”

“I plead the fifth,” Louis declares, dodging Lou’s grabs as he slips away from the makeup table. “I’m dolled up enough, let’s get this show on the road.”

“You aren’t even American.” Harry replies, getting up to follow him. “And you’re always a doll.” He adds, unable to help himself. Louis glares in his direction, and does the _I’m watching you gesture._

Louis is definitely not going to go easy on him today.

Harry is so fucked.

2\. It Begins

The host is from some rising talk show that Harry’s never heard of. Louis, on the other hand, seems to know him fairly well and is chatting up a storm. He’s settled himself a little too close for Harry’s comfort, but he ignores it, seeing the challenging glint in Louis’ eye every time he subtly (not subtly) turns to check on Harry’s reaction.

“Please don’t flirt in front of the cameras,” Liam’s voices startles him. “You two really need to tone down the eye fucking.”

Harry mentally rolls his eyes. “He started it-“ he begins, but Liam cuts him off.

“Yeah, yeah we’ve heard it before. Like literally. Heard the start, middle, and end of this. Would you guys mind trying to keep it quiet later at the hotel?” Liam looks a bit desperate. “I’ve heard more than I’d like to know about what you two do at night.”

“At night, during the day, whenever we can find an empty storage closet-“ Harry begins again, but is once again cut off.

“I don’t want to hear it!” Liam whisper-shouts, placing his hands over his ears and rushing away.

Harry turns to check on Louis again and sees him muffling a laugh behind his hand, eyes on where Liam is rushing away. His eyes are sparkling and his cheeks are red with joy and Harry’s chest thumps loudly with affection for the boy in front of him. And then it’s Harry trying to hold back a laugh as Louis does a crude gesture in Liam’s direction when he finally gets his attention. Niall pops up behind Liam to return a rude gesture of his own, and it transforms into an all out war that Paul has no chance in hell at stopping.

3\. Gametime

The point of the whole special show is charity for LGBT youth. Harry had begged and bartered with the team to let them do the show, even though it wasn’t exactly easy to fit into their busy schedules, being in the middle of touring. In the end, charity was charity, and it was for a great cause. The turnout has been amazing. Everywhere Harry turns, he can spot a face that he recognizes. The show has them working in pairs and the more games they won, the more money donated in their team’s name.

Harry supposes the boys could be a _bit_ competitive at times.

“Harry, spin faster! We can’t lose to Niall and Liam!” Louis shrieks.

Harry has to remind himself that it’s for charity. He’s not sure he’d blindfold himself, spin 30 circles, and attempt to fence against Liam using only Louis’ verbal directions and a foam sword otherwise.

Okay, maybe he’d blindfold himself. Or maybe he’d blindfold Louis. Louis would look awfully pretty with a blindfold, wrists tied to the headboard, hair mussed, lips pink-

He gets jabbed in the side with enough force to make him sputter. He hears Niall and Liam’s laughter and the host announcing a point. And above that, he hears the higher, sweeter pitches of Louis’ giggles.

“You’re supposed to be on my team.” He complains, backing off to begin spinning again.

“What am I supposed to do when you just stand there and zone out?” Louis complains back, laughter still evident in his voice. “You did that to yourself.”

“How come I have to do the hard work in all the games?” Harry continues to complain. So far, he’s carried Louis through an entirely way too complex obstacle course and had to guess what disgusting food concoctions Liam put in his mouth. The only plus side to that game was that Louis is a far more devious soul, and Harry’s not sure Niall will ever recover from the anchovy tabasco chocolate milk that Louis had gleefully poured into his mouth.

“Excuse you, I’m very hard at work,” Louis shot back. “It’s a very difficult job, keeping you from getting shanked by a foam sword.”

“I’m sure,” Harry replies, voice drawling and sarcastic. Louis instructs him directly into Liam as revenge.

4\. Quiztime

“This is probably a bad idea,” Harry says, not for the first time today. He’s seated next to Niall and across from Louis and Liam, and they’re supposed to be getting ready to take a quiz about each other, but Louis is too busy trying to draw a dick on Liam’s whiteboard.

“You’re going to go along with it anyway,” Niall states, like it’s a fact of life. “You always give Louis what he wants.”

As if he could do anything else. As if anyone could do anything else really, it’s hard to say no to Louis when he wants something. They spoil him.

Louis is waving his board at the studio audience, who respond with loud laughter and shrieks. Harry raises an eyebrow at him, so Louis turns the board so that he can see it. 

It’s an extravagantly overdone drawing of him, complete with curls, some sort of seashell/mermaid tail combo, and what looks to be an attempt at shading. Harry would have assumed it to be a monster doodle of some sort if it weren’t for the big arrow labeling the drawing as the curly careless crustacean. Which makes no sense to Harry, but he rolls his eyes anyway, smiling fondly back. 

Louis gives him a split second of a genuine smile, the kind that he reserves for when they’re being intimate, cuddling together after a show or sex or a private dinner. It warms Harry from his gut until Louis turns his board around and adds a dick as a unicorn horn on Harry’s forehead. 

“That doesn’t look anything like me,” he complains to Niall, poking him in the ribs to look. Niall jumps and drops his board. 

“It’s a perfect portrayal.” Niall declares to a screaming audience and proud Louis.

Traitor.

5\. Finale

It’s the last game of the day, and Harry is exhausted. Feeling good about how much the four of them donated to charity, yes. But entirely exhausted. 

The final game is a physical one, because of course it is. They’re playing a human version of bumper cars, where each pair is squished into one inner tube, and trying to bounce others out of the court by rushing at them. Harry and Louis have a disadvantage in terms of balance, due to their height difference, of which Louis vehemently denies. He claims it’s because Harry is part giraffe. 

The point is, they’re unable to remain upright for long periods of time. Harry isn’t sure if they’re still in the running thanks to his height or Louis’ sheer pigheadedness. It’s probably the latter.

They get rushed by Niall and Liam and barely avoid stepping out of the court by Louis throwing his entire body weight into Harry, who flops over. At least they fall within the court lines.

“I think my entire body is bruised,” Harry moans, trying to roll over as Louis attempts to drag them up by the inner tube. “Just leave me here, go on without me.”

“You’re such a drama queen,” Louis huffs, halfway up. That won’t do. Harry wants to rest, just a minute to catch his breath from being knocked over again by a recently re-energized Liam and Niall.

Harry reaches upward, gets a good hold on Louis’ hands as if he was going to pull himself up, and then yanks Louis down as hard as he can. Before Louis can even process what’s happening, Harry executes what he considers a frankly perfect barrel roll past the lines. 

Of course Louis starts screeching about foul play. He slips the inner tube off the two of them and starts beating Harry with it. Harry flips them over so he’s between Louis’ legs and leans down to tuck his face into Louis’ neck. 

“Behave, okay baby? You’ve been very bratty today.” Harry murmurs, placing a small kiss to Louis’ jaw. The smaller boy is only beginning to settle beneath him when Harry gets a whack to the back of the head from Liam’s inner tube.

“No flirting on camera!” He hisses. 

+1 

It’s been a long day. Harry feels a bit like an old man, with aches and pains all over his body. He can’t say that he’s unhappy with the end result though, they raised so much money. He leans back against the hotel’s pillows, stacked high against the headboard. 

“Baby? Coming to bed anytime soon?” He calls, wondering what’s taking Louis so long to get ready.

“Just a minute!” Louis voice calls. There’s a thump, and then a crash, and then the sound of something breaking. “Oops.”

“Don’t steal my line!” Harry calls back, eyes still on his phone. He hears Louis walk towards the bed, stopping directly in front of him with a little huff. Harry looks up and promptly fumbles with his phone.

“Not that I’m complaining,” he says, placing his phone on the nightstand and reaching out to pull Louis closer by his hips, “But what brought this on?”

“I just thought you needed something to help you stay awake tonight.” Louis replies sweetly. As if he weren’t wearing the most sinful pair of black lace panties Harry has ever seen. They must be new, he’s sure he’d remember those. 

“You’re going to have to do all the work,” Harry warned him, pulling the boy into his lap. “I’m so sore I can barely move a muscle.”

“I’m sure I can motivate you to do a little more.” Louis replies, dipping down to press a kiss against Harry’s lips. 

There’s a loud banging from the wall their headboard is against—Liam and Niall’s room—but it goes unheard by them.


End file.
